


The Poison of her Memory

by Brian00760



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:55:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25923184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brian00760/pseuds/Brian00760
Summary: An annual getaway to recharge, leads to a new beginning and a three-day adventure into misery . . .





	The Poison of her Memory

In mid-spring, I often travel to a small lodge in the Rocky Mountains where I can enjoy the sights and sounds of emerging new life. The vast hordes of tourists have yet to show themselves, so it’s a very peaceful time where I get the chance to recharge and find a little peace before heading back to the city to indulge in the daily routines and conditioned views of the world.

I had rented the same small cabin as in years past. It was located furthest from the main part of Takkakawa lodge, had its own kitchen and food supplies, and the seclusion was soul healing. There was another cabin nearby, but I had never known anyone to rent it during my past visits so my expectations hadn’t changed. I arrived late in the afternoon and after a quick check-in, found my cabin and unpacked for my stay. 

Within the cabin were the usual amenities, a flat screen television, Wi-Fi access, a queen-sized bed in the bedroom, two bottles of spiced rum and a wine refrigerator with several bottles of a delicious Sauvignon blanc christened with the name Côtes de Bordeaux. I had requested this personal favourite prior to arrival and quickly liberated a bottle, pouring myself a healthy quantity in a crystal wine goblet. As always, the Lodge had found a unique piece of stemware for the wine. On this occasion, it was a pewter dragon that adorned the glass. Its pewter wings were gently wrapped around the bowl, the body of the beast around the stem and foot. 

Bottle and glass of wine in hand, I sauntered outside and made my way to a small patio area where there was a chair, a small squared table and a fire pit. Placing the chair close to the fire pit, I sat back and let the stress in my neck and shoulders dissipate, all thanks to the wonderful effects of the wine and the tranquil surroundings. I chose to forgo the fire this night and just enjoyed my surroundings, thankful that the mind-numbing noise of the city was far away.

However, it was during this relaxation time with loons on the lake delivering their haunting call and the blissful eye indulgence of a spring sunset, that she arrived. The fancy car she drove was out of place here, and the whine of the engine spoke volumes about its horsepower and price. It was getting dark, so an odd time to arrive I thought, well, that and there goes my privacy and quiet. Hopefully she would be a good neighbor and leave me in peace. 

With dusks arrival, and the light fading, I could see she was wearing a white sleeveless dress and sunglasses, pushed up onto her forehead. She had long dark hair and the way she walked – indicated she was wearing a shoe with a high heel on it. Hardly the correct attire and footwear for the woods. She opened the trunk lid of her car and removed a few bags, and a folding/collapsible chair before disappearing in her cabin for the evening. Based on the number of bags and the chair she’d brought along, I was guessing her stay would be longer than a night or two. 

I poured the remaining wine into my glass, and continued to enjoy my surroundings. Looking up at the sky, stars were beginning to appear, including my favourite grouping of stars that resemble a bear, Ursa Major and Ursa Minor, two constellations in the northern sky. Most people know them as the Big and Little Dipper, but I prefer the bear and the mythology that goes with the two groups. 

While staring at the stars and pondering the mythology, it became quite clear that it had gotten dark and it was time to retreat to my cabin, and get an uninterrupted nights sleep. Cell phone and other devices would be turned off. This was my “Down Time” and the emergencies and questions of the world would have to wait until I returned to the city.  
Standing up and gathered the empty wine bottle and dragon glass, I took a final glance over at the cabin where she had disappeared. There were no lights to indicate the cabin was occupied and no sounds emanated from it. She was certainly quiet, a good thing. 

I retired for the evening and once in bed, slipped into blissful sleep.

Our Meeting

I had built a fire early the next morning, after returning from a short hike, and had settled into my chair with a cup of coffee enjoying the rising sun and the multitude of colours of the sky as it slowly climbed towards its pinnacle. I looked over at the cabin where my neighbor had moved in and noted she drove a Blue McLaren 270. Nice car. She must have a very successful career to afford it. Well why not I thought. She might as well enjoy some of life’s little pleasures. 

She was indeed quiet so I never gave her much more thought until about an hour later, when she exited her cabin and approached the patio and fire where I was sitting. With chair in one hand and a coffee cup in the other, it was apparent that she meant to sit for a time. I watched her walking towards me and even though she was wearing a grey sweat shirt and jeans with holes in the knees and thigh area, her beauty was very apparent. I had to avert my eyes and slow my breathing so she would not be aware of my initial attraction to her and the physical presence that dwelled below her cotton armour. 

I was indeed nervous but knew I needed to play this cool. I did not know how our story would unfold, but I was eager to see if there would be a beginning more impressive than a mere handshake. As she got closer, a voice in my head questioned if there was a storm coming? No, I dismissed that notion and focused on the smell of adventure that was in the air and how it caused a frisson of pleasure to travel down my spine.

She smiled when she got closer, and extended her right hand. I cleared my throat and took her hand in mine. It was soft, like I imagined it would be, but her grip was a firm, pleasing. It left me with a feeling, an impression that this woman was strong, independent and real. We exchanged pleasantries and names, made some brief small talk, and I invited her to sit down. She accepted, apologizing for the intrusion. I assured her that there was no intrusion so she sat adjacent to me beside the fire briefly staring into the flames. 

Initially there was nothing that I found exceptional about her. Her career in finance and her life in the city seemed pretty normal, which is to say uninteresting. She was certainly intelligent and even made a few attempts at humour – one I did not share. Hers was dry, mine was more slapstick. Our discussion centered mostly on getting away from the city, the reasons for it, and how this place was a means of rejuvenation and mental health recovery. There was also talk of careers, career aspirations, hobbies and other trivial talk that strangers engage in to seem interested and interesting. Still, her career, designer clothes and expensive convertible suggested a propensity towards being aggressive and focused on what she wanted.

And on top of her obvious intellect, and determination to succeed there was her exceptional beauty, sculpted from hours of running, time in the gym lifting weights and of course genes gifted to her from her parents. It wasn’t long before my mind went foggy, lost focus on her words and began to drink in her flawless form. I say flawless as the sun rose higher and the spring air warmed considerably. She stood up briefly and removed the sweat shirt, exposing a light blue T-Shirt underneath. It clung tightly to her bosom but paled to the jeans she wore, scarcely hiding the perfect symmetrical curves of her hips and booty. Yes, everything about her was a creation that a sculptor no less than Michelangelo, could dare repeat in marble or clay. 

She continued to speak for what seemed like quite an extended period as I sat there, saying nothing. Her voice became more and more muffled as I slid into a trance, hypnotized by the vision before me, drunk with licentious thoughts. A voice in my head told me to pay attention to her words and stop staring; a voice I chose to conveniently ignore. She held my gaze, seemingly daring me to look away. Tilting her head to the left, she continued to speak, her piercing green eyes shining as a smile crept over alluring lips. Long russet locks cascaded down over the bridge of her nose and ended just above her breast. She ran her hand through that tousled mane before stopping and resting her head on the palm. Smitten by this portrait of beauty, I missed the change in her demeanor. 

Then, without warning, she stopped talking and was staring at me with a look that I initially interpreted as stunned curiosity. She abruptly stood and I was jolted back to reality as my face warmed and went flush with embarrassment for staring at her. My plan to act cool had gone awry and I was now discovered being one of those leering, creepy types women loathed. Well, at least she would leave me alone now. 

I was prepared for the chewing out I so richly deserved when the most unexpected and peculiar thing happened. As I rose from my chair, she moved towards me, closing the small gap between us. I, of course expected a slap for ogling her, but instead was taken aback when she leaned into me and kissed me tenderly and fully on the lips. She pulled away briefly, looked at me with a seductive smile and kissed me again, unlocking a hunger I scarcely knew before. I grabbed her tightly around her hips and returned the lust filled offering. Before long we found ourselves stumbling through the cabin and falling into my bed, a clothing strewn trail marking our way. Lost in the throngs of passion, uninhibited, we danced a dance of rhythmic heaving flesh until our passion became so urgent that our bodies succumbed to honied release.

Later, exhausted from our formidable love making, she drew up close to me and head on my chest slowly dozed off to sleep. It took me awhile longer to join her in this nocturnal world, but I too fell into a deep, peaceful sleep. 

-o-

The brilliant sun, shining in my eyes, woke me. I could feel her next to me still, her warm body still pressed up against me. I turned my head from the light and looked at her face. So it wasn’t a dream, it was real. A glorious awakening indeed. It was an amazing feeling to awaken and have someone pressed up against me again. It had been a while, too long perhaps. I slowly ran my hands through her dark brown hair and wondered what might be? If there was some kind of a future for us. We were compatible in lovemaking, perhaps there could be more?

It was around this time that she began to stir and it wasn’t long before she too was stretching to the mid-day light and awakening from the aftermath of this morning’s passion. I was expecting her to run away, embarrassed by what had happened, blaming it on the fresh air and wine. Again, she surprised me by asking where one could find coffee. I chuckled and said I could whip us up a fresh pot but that I only had cream; I never used sugar. She said that cream was fine and turned back onto her side, waiting for my return. I noted a tattoo on the left hip – lettering that made no sense to me, a mystery that I would have to learn when I returned with the coffee. 

Once brewed, I returned to the bedroom carrying two coffee mugs by the handles in one hand, and a container of cream and a spoon in the other. She sat up, gingerly took possession of one mug and taking the cream, poured in a healthy portion. After giving me a wink and a smile, she slurped a mouthful and followed it up with a sincere “mmmmmmmm.” 

After pouring cream in my coffee, I sat down on the bed, and gazed down at her tattooed hip again. I reached over and stroked the tattoo, asking her what it said. She lay her head on drawn up knees and said that it was Irish for “I am free” or Tá mé saor in aisce. Funny how we miss these subtle clues. I traced the letters with my left index finger and we drank our coffee in silence. 

A few minutes had passed before she placed her empty coffee cup on the night stand, took my half empty cup and did the same with it. Then she pull me too her and kissed me again. Before long, the passion rose and we were again in the throngs of lovemaking. 

She could have been a super-model or every man’s dream and societies cliché. I could scarce believe she was in my bed, but the warmth of her naked body, the smell of her Marc Jacobs perfume, her thrusting hips, her moans of pleasure opened my mind to the reality that was happening. I let my eyes focus on the perfection on top of me until release caused me to tighten and embrace her tight, while her body shuddered from her own orgasmic liberation. 

Afternoon turned to early evening and early evening turned to darkness. It seemed that my bed would be our fortress of sin for the day – and I had no misgivings or concerns. My heart was beginning to beat again and I am certain I could hear music. 

A Day on the Trail

A loud knock on the door woke me and I sat up quickly in bed. My initial thought was her boyfriend or husband had tracked her here and that he was looking for her, not realizing she was a part of a tryst. I turned to look at her and ask her if she was married when I noted she was gone. Was that relief I felt? Then a voice called out “Cleaning Staff. Can I come in and make up your room sir?” 

Once I realized that it was nothing out of the ordinary, I took a deep breath and responded with “No thank you, we’re good here today.” 

“Very good sir” and she was gone. 

She wasn’t in the bed with me. I could however, hear her rummaging around in the kitchen, searching for gawd knows what and could distinctly hear the crackling of bacon slowly cooking, permeating the air with its olfactory pleasing aroma. 

I slipped out of bed and put on my briefs before joining her and offering up my culinary skills. I was bluntly told my contribution would be only to make coffee. I was to stay clear as she was ravenous and had no time for amateurs getting in the road. She kissed me, playfully slapped my ass, and shooed me away. I smiled, finding I liked playing this culinary charade so decided that coffee would have a wee bit more of a personal touch this day. I found the coffee grinder, an old hand crank type and opened up a fresh bag of coffee beans. Fresh ground, especially by hand, added a more distinctive and satisfying flavour. I needed to impress her if I expected us to become more. 

We decided to consume our breakfast bounty of orange juice, fruit, eggs, bacon and toast by sitting at the table inside. All during breakfast we talked of me, my likes and interests but other than superficial references to her work and activities, I learned nothing about her. I found it curious, but dismissed it as overthinking on my part. I mean, we just met and other than mind-blowing sex, had no history so perhaps I was rushing this ‘getting to know you’ thing too fast. Still, her need for secrecy was puzzling to me. 

After breakfast, we shared a quick shower and donned our hiking attire. Mine was a white short-sleeve t-shirt, with a logo on the front that said ‘Take a Hike’ and a pair of kaki cargo shorts with the large pockets on the legs. It was finished off with socks, hiking shoes and a back-pack with supplies. 

Her attire, on the other hand, was off the charts. I began with a ridiculous blue fedora and aviator sunglasses. Her top was lime green sports bra like you see in gyms, with grey leggings and finished off with turquoise blue hiking shoes. Apparently colour coordination is not required in the mountains.  
So off we went to a trail that I had been on several times in the past. Not particularly hard, but not a simple beginner’s path either. We were hiking what is referred to as the Spray River Loop. It climbs slowly upward for just over five and a half kilometers to the southern point of the trail or its midway point. Here the trail crosses the river via a small pedestrian bridge and loops back to the starting point. 

The trail head was a short five-minute walk from our cabins. Once there, we checked to make sure we had all the items we needed, including a first-aid kit for minor afflictions, bug spray for the emerging misquotes, and bear spray for the bears fresh out of hibernation. We also had sufficient water and food for hiking and a high energy snack once we reached the mid-point. Cellular phones were of little value on this hike as there was no reception, but as always, I did bring a satellite phone in the event of an emergency. When we were still at the cabin, I checked the weather forecast and it indicated we would have a cloudless, warm spring day so I decided the load could be made lighter by not bringing extra clothing. She laughed at my back-pack and how well equipped it was, calling me a ‘boy scout’ who is always prepared. I just grinned like a fool and let her have her fun. My heart beat faster. 

Once everything was stored and in its correct place, we started off. I initially thought I would be taking the lead, but it wasn’t long before she was walking in front of me, taking the leadership role. It wasn’t really surprising at all, and seemed to fit with her alpha personality. To her credit, she stopped many times along the way to take photographs and admire the spectacular views of alpine meadows, waterfalls and the occasional furry critter that was wandering about. I took photos as well, but mostly of her, capturing human perfection in a place when nature had carved perfection of her own. 

We continued onward, rarely speaking and if we did, it was in reference to the scenery or wildlife. Once we reached the southern point of the trail, we could see how the land flattens out and goes on for quite a distance, to the place where the river has it’s beginning – the Bow Glacier. The glacier was as old as the land and had supplied this river with water for millennia, or so the Takkakawa Lodge literature decreed. Like many glaciers though, it was shrinking slowly due to climate change. Such a shame. 

The consensus was that this would be a nice spot to rest and refuel before returning to the cabin. It was close to the river and came complete with a picnic table that overlooked the river. We briefly pondered how the table was able to find its way to this location and logically assumed that someone brought the boards for it with them via some motorized transportation and built it on site with a few basic hand tools. Giving that all the thought necessary, we unpacked the food and drinks we’d packed and had lunch. It was a beautiful day, warm, sunny, quiet.

As we ate our lunch and took in the wonders around us, I decided to breach the topic of “her.” I started to ask questions that would give me a window into what made this woman who she is. Who is her family? Where did she grow up? High school crushes, dancing, anything at all. Initially she laughed it off and tried to change the subject, but this time I pressed it a little, to get her to open up. Once again, she surprised me. 

“I’m not having this conversation” she snapped. I was taken aback by how abrupt and curt the response was. A small rise of anger rose in me and I had to bite hard on my tongue and not respond in a nasty way. 

She could obviously see I was upset so countered with “I’m sorry, that was rude. I still need to unwind from work. Isn’t that why we’re here” she enquired? “Besides, it’s difficult to trust people knowing your business. I have always had trust issues.” 

She searches my face, her features softening. “You’re a great guy and I don’t want a stupid comment by me to ruin this time together.” For the first time, her eyes held genuine hope, and who was I to deny it. I smiled and conceded “Perhaps you’re right. No need to be upset.” We both smiled and finished eating in silence.

After lunch, we decided to head back the way we came rather than cross the bridge to get back to where we started and then to our cabin. It would be downhill, so an easy trek. We were half-way back when we encountered a lone mountain bike cyclist. He warned us of a grizzly bear he had passed on the trial about 100 meters ahead. We had bear spray with us so we were not overly concerned, although I can attest to being excited. We thanked him and cameras in hand, continued back down the trail. As expected, we ran into the bear, but to our surprise, the bear was not a grizzly but a black bear that was cinnamon brown in colour. 

The bear looked at us with curiosity and his body language did not suggest aggression. Body sideways, ears forward, sniffing the air. As we cautiously moved towards him, me with bear spray at the ready, he turned and retired further down the path, disappearing around a bend, but not before she was able to get several pictures and a short video clip. We stopped briefly and took a little time to look at the pictures on her digital camera, the quality of them excellent. Even the short video clip was outstanding.

As we rounded the bend, we came upon the bear again, only this time he was grazing on grass, seemingly unconcerned about us being there. However, she decided the bear needed to get off the path and let us past so she looked directly at the bear, and pointing to a small rise to our left said to the bear “You need to go up the hill and eat your salad. We need to get past you and continue on our way. Please move!”

The bear looked at her and appeared to understand her command, and with no hint of confrontation, slowly walked up the slope and disappeared in a group of trees. We continue back the rest of the way without incident. 

When we got back to the cabin she turned and smiled at me. “I was thinking that you should take me into your cabin and show me some of that passion you displayed yesterday. Then you can ask all the questions that you are burning to ask. Shall we?” as she motioned toward the door. I smiled and lifted her up over my shoulder, swatter her bum this time. She let out a scream and laughed until we were inside sanctuary. 

My heart was definitely beating now. Before she closed the small divide between our cabins, I could only dream of such a woman in my life. She was still mysterious and enigmatic, yet my heart beat for her and I was powerless to stop the music – now, oh so loud. 

Unraveled Love

Morning was to be early for me. I slid out of bed silently, stealth like and dressed in a sweatshirt and shorts. I put on my hiking shoes outside the cabin and walked about three kilometers to where I could get an unobstructed view of the sun rising. As I sat there, my thoughts we on the creature that lay sleeping in my bed and I mused about a future with her. Would I move or would she? Would we live together? What would the future hold for us? I dismissed the thoughts for now. There would be time later to discuss where we would go from here. The sun was up now so I headed back to the cabin, to make a much needed coffee and to see her. 

When I entered the cabin, she was laying back in a chair, one leg exposed, the other partially covered with a silk housecoat she had brought with her. Her hair hung down behind the back rest and she was stroking those magnificent locks with her left hand. She turned and met my gaze, then stood up and as she walked towards me, dropped the silken armour – exposing perfection.

She pulled me towards the bed, assisting me with the removal of my t-shirt and shorts. Before long, we were in the throngs of love-making as I desperately tried to devour her body with my hands. Her response to my caress only fueled my desire for her. She was writhing perfection and it was when the writhing began that I realized that I had given this woman my heart so my love making became more earnest and demanding. I caught a glimpse of her gratified smile before her lean form spasmed from our erotic adventure.

We had both taken some time to collect ourselves and to recover. It was during this time that I began thinking about a future with her again . . . but a voice in my head said that there was something amiss and that all was not as it seemed. 

When I had the courage to speak, I queried “Why are you in my bed?”

She laughed and said “Why ask why? Just accept it for what it is. Two people enjoying the physical pleasure derived from some mind-blowing sex. Why do you ask? Do you have self-esteem issues?” 

“No. My self-esteem is fine.”

“Do strong women frighten you? I thought they only frightened boys, not men?” 

“No. I like strong women. Women who know what they want and go and get it. I just wonder why you chose to be in my bed? I wonder what thoughts went through your mind?”

“Well, when I saw you here, I thought, bonus. A man. Good looking, decent shape, someone to fuck. As luck would have it you’re decently endowed and are good in bed. That’s why I’m here. But to be clear, I don’t want a mate or boyfriend – I want sex. It’s that simple. I don’t want a relationship. I don’t believe in monogamy or the one I’m destined to be with forever. I do not believe in soulmates.”

I sat up, turned my head towards her, a bit perplexed, and said “I find myself craving you like a drowning man craves air. I love the build-up, when our touching becomes grabbing, soft lips become hungry tongues and hearts beats faster. I enjoy the sex and you are without a doubt very physically appealing, but I find that I want more.”

She sat up in bed quickly, eyes wide open, glaring at me; anger on her face.

“No! Don’t be one of those. Don’t be one of those who falls in love.” A brief pause, her words written in fire. 

“What the fuck ever happened to men? You know, men. Who just wanted to fuck and then move on. Christ, now they want a relationship, love, to live together.” She swiftly exited the bed, walked to the window and looked out, continuing her rant. 

“Fucking feminist crap. It has turned men into women with dicks. Gawd how I wish I could find just one real man in this world.” She turned from the window to look at me.

“I like you, I really do, but I do not want anything from you but sex. Nothing at all. And feel free to call me a slut and a whore or any other vile name you can think of. Other men have – as if their part in our carnal exploit was only my fault, that their actions were honorable.”

A small look of optimism appeared on her face when she said. “Do you remember that Old Alan Alda movie that was called The Same time next year?” I remembered and nodded yes. 

“Good! My idea was for us to meet here annually, have a few beverages, do a little hiking, but mostly just have sex. That is all I want from you. Nothing more. Can you give that to me?

I looked at her for a short time, but she could see the answer before I spoke and the look of hope so visible on her face quickly faded away, replaced with exasperation.

“Then FUCK YOU!!” she screamed. “Live in your happily ever after bullshit dream. I want no part of it and I want nothing more from you. I am meant to run, to be free of life’s expectations and labels. I’m not going to change who I am just because YOU want the stereotypical boring life!” 

She stormed out of the room and I wanted to go after her, but knew my actions and any words from me would only make things worse. I let her go and my heart let out a cry as the musical crescendo, the one so loud only moments ago, fell silent. 

Soon after I heard the slamming of her car trunk and the engine fired up. I took a few quick steps to the window and drew opened the blind slightly but she didn’t even look in my direction. In mere seconds, the car reversed rapidly and was soon gone. 

Revelation

As I sat alone in the cabin, I began to feel like I was suffocating, like the walls were closing in. Rather than suffer through a panic attack, I thought a walk might settle my nerves and help me clear my mind. Unfortunately, the bottle of spiced rum that accompanied me had a different idea. I would take a swallow of the spicy essence, feeling it’s fiery burn in my throat, still failing to deter further consumption. The rum spoke loudly, reminding me of the time spent with this all-consuming shrew unable to focus on anything but what I felt I had lost. 

I yearned for her supple body. The warmth of her skin, the marvelous feel of her lithe hips, the taste of her soft lips, or gazing into those green eyes was overpowering and I could not focus on anything else. 

Eventually I returned to my cabin, seeking to find more comfort in the other bottle of spiced rum. Balance was not cooperating at all, but I still managed to find my chair. The rum spoke a convincing argument to me, telling me that 

I listened closely and consumed the savory contents of the second bottle rather quickly until its words began to fade and finally unable to speak further. I staggered to my bed and slumped over, landing face down, captured in its gentle embrace. Sleep quickly followed. 

This granted me a few hours of solace before yelling at me the next morning. I took a few ibuprofens to decrease the drubbing my head was enduring. Thoughts of her began to creep back into my mind and I tried to push them away, to forget that I was alone, but it would have been easier to stop breathing. 

I had to accept that she wasn’t returning and because of this revelation, I decided to book out of the lodge early. After packing my car, I looked towards her cabin, a cabin I never even entered. Perhaps she was afraid I would discover her lie and end her façade sooner. I sat in the driver’s seat and started the engine. I tool one final glance in the rearview mirror as I drove away, knowing it would be difficult coming back here next spring. Her memory would haunt this place from now on. Shangri-La, was gone. 

As I drove home, I pondered if people cross paths for a reason? Is there a lesson to be learned here, or was it a chance to open my heart just a little, for a stranger, for two souls to share what felt like life-time in three days? Three wonderful days that ended in tragedy and a storm that brewed in my heart.

That evening, sitting in my leather recliner at home, I reminisced about our time together, and for a moment, felt like we were connecting once more. Perhaps she was thinking of me at that precise moment and our consciousnesses linked up briefly – reminiscing about our time together and how it had a more profound impact than expected. Of course, I immediately dismissed the idea as wishful thinking. The only thing I knew for certain was that my world felt empty and that all I had was the poison of her memory.

Some time later, with a small amount of sleuthing on my part, it became abundantly clear that her story about working in finance was a lie, the company name was also a lie. With this information, it was easy to deduce that the city she claimed to come from was also a lie, just like the three days spent together. What was amazing was how easy it was for her to weave her tale, to talk without having anything to say. I settled on the fact that she was well practiced and that lying came as easy to her as breathing was for everyone else. It stung knowing I was duped so easily. Still, she had abducted my heart with her lies and I being the fool, believed her. 

I knew I would never see her again, yet the door was open for her to come back – impossible for me to lock. Looking over at a dying plant near the window, thinking it needed watering, yet impressed how it was clinging to life by letting falling peddles go, letting go of the beauty so the whole could survive. Perhaps there was a lesson in its resilience for me to heed. Let go of the painful storm inside. Let go of the storm and wait for the murky clouds to disperse so that the metaphoric flowers could bloom again.  
Holding on to her memory would pointless, but I didn’t know how to put it down because she still held residence in my heart and was not in my arms. 

That was when the epiphany hit me. I realized that holding on to her, to a love that could not exist in anytime but three days, was foolish. She was selfish and for that reason alone, I would never see her the same way again. Her exterior beauty, a decoration, a façade that hid her lack of depth or a kind soul. A pitiful creature unable to see beauty or feel pleasure beyond the superficial. 

Now, merely a dark chapter in my life that would never be read again, our three days was just a passing shadow, a moment of darkness that would pass. The lesson of our tryst ensured I would not be duped by a pretty face again or a shallow personality. She reminded me that there was someone better waiting for me, someone who could see a future with me. 

Until the day when fate arranges that meeting, I will slog on with my life. I will leave behind the ghosts of her memory, trust in the magic of a new beginning and let my heart beat for another. 

End.


End file.
